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seen from TĂźrkiye
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Amazon.com: Aroha's Cowboy: The Crystal Lily: 9798244573046: McDonald, Eoin: Books
Some hearts meet like this â quietly, and all at once.
Aroha has survived on strength alone. Then a cowboy rides in and changes everything she thought she knew about love, land, and herself. Arohaâs Cowboy â The Crystal Lily is now available in hardcover.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
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The city awoke slowly, still basking in the afterglow of the Singapore Grand Prix. Glittering remnants of the post-race celebration clung to every surface: confetti tucked between the seams of kerbstones, banners fluttering in the early breeze, champagne stains kissed into the concrete like the city had bled joy. The circuitâs bones remainedâgrandstands, temporary structures, and winding track barriersâbut the magic had begun to fade, giving way to the reality of disassembly.
Yet amidst the clean-up crews and media vans rolling out, a different kind of operation was underway.
The Young familyâs private men were still there; discreet, sharp-eyed, and relentless. Dressed in unbranded black tactical wear, they moved with the quiet precision of operatives trained not to be seen. For hours they scoured the outer corridors of the paddock, the shaded alleys behind hospitality units, and beneath every loading platform and storage area.
But the morning yielded nothing.
No sight of the boy.
No new photos.
No second message.
Just the buzz of the sun rising and the knowledge that somewhere, they had come painfully close⌠only to lose the trail again.
Cassius Young stood with his arms crossed beside a storage bay near the old grandstand exit, lips pressed in a grim line. The men around him were shaking their heads, murmuring into encrypted comms, tracing the signal again. Another dead end. The tracker pinged faintly yesterday, and now? Nothing.
He exhaled sharply, kicking a loose pebble across the pavement. âHe was here,â he muttered. âThe message, the necklace, the boy in the crowd, someone was taunting her. Taunting us.â
âOr warning us,â said Alaric from behind.
Cassius turned.
Alaric strode into view like a shadow spilling through lightâimpeccably dressed, but with sleeves rolled, expression dark, eyes sweeping the facility with clinical precision. He wasnât frustrated. Alaric never was. He was sharpening.
âYou think this was a plant?â Cassius asked, stepping closer.
âI think it was deliberate,â Alaric murmured. âAnd I think weâre being watched. This isnât random. Weâre playing someoneâs game.â
He gestured to the lead agent beside him and walked with purpose into the lower-level hallways beneath the trackâs media centre, a place few people bothered to check. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. The corridors were cool, sterile, filled with the scent of oil and old concrete.
It was here, among half-packed crates and abandoned race logistics, that Alaricâs eye landed on it.
A clipboard. Left on the floor, near a ventilation shaft behind the catering service hall.
Not the clipboard itself that drew his interest, but the paper half-tucked beneath it. Scribbled over in faded graphite were a series of half-legible notations. At first glance, just numbers. But Alaric saw the pattern immediately.
He knelt down, pulled on his gloves, and retrieved the page. His gaze narrowed.
âCassius,â he called out sharply. âLook at this.â
Cassius strode over, crouching beside him. He peered at the page, brow furrowed. âItâs a code.â
âMore than that,â Alaric replied. âItâs a route.â
Indeed, between the numbers were arrows, faint but clear if you knew what to look for. It wasnât written in words. It was a movement diagram. A path. Markings that could only make sense to someone who knew the trackâs underbelly.
A route through the old service tunnels.
Alaric stood. âSomeone walked the boy through here.â
He turned to the men behind him. âSearch the ventilation shafts, every door that connects to the service line. I want CCTV from yesterday morning through this very minute, unofficial cameras too. I donât care if itâs hotel staff or race engineers. Pull every angle.â
And the team dispersed with swift obedience.
ââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââ
Elsewhere in the paddock, whispers were spreading.
Strange men had been seen combing the periphery. Not FIA, not team engineers. Unmarked cars had rolled in that morning. Even McLaren staff, normally immune to rumour, were murmuring beneath their breath.
Who were these people?
Why were they still here?
When Lando arrived for a scheduled debrief and sponsor obligation, he was met with tight-lipped glances from his own PR team. The corridor outside the media room was thick with tension, as though someone had whispered a secret that hadnât yet reached his ears.
He ducked through the security line and stopped short.
There, standing at the far end of the hospitality corridor, was Alaric Young.
Again.
Lando blinked, brow furrowing. âWhat the hell is going onâŚâ
Alaric noticed him, but didnât move. He was speaking to two of his men, issuing instructions in crisp, low tones. His presence here yesterday couldâve been brushed off as familial support. Today, it felt like a message.
Lando moved closer.
âBack again?â he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.
Alaric looked up, expression unreadable. âTold you. Family.â
âYou donât look like youâre here for champagne.â
Cassius appeared from the side, his gaze level, cool. âAnd you donât look like someone who should be asking questions.â
Landoâs eyes narrowed. âIs something going on with (Y/n)?â
Alaric tilted his head ever so slightly. âIf there were, it would be her choice to tell you.â
âBut youâre here, poking around the garages and tunnels,â Lando pushed. âYouâre investigating something. Just tell meââ
Cassius stepped forward. âIf we told you, you wouldnât be able to un-know it. So, think very carefully before you ask again.â
It wasnât a threat. It was a boundary.
Alaric held up a hand. âThatâs enough.â
Then, to Lando: âWeâre here for our sister. And thatâs all you need to understand.â
Lando watched them both, jaw tight. âYou think I wouldnât want to help her?â
Alaric didnât blink. âYou had your chance.â (Alarwynn: OHHHHH SHIIIâ sorry, sorry, um, I'll get back to the story. But seriously, bro, he did try a lot of times.)
And then, without another word, the brothers turned and disappeared through the hallway like two dark knives slicing through the paddockâs artificial calm.
ââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââ
Back beneath the trackâs foundations, the team found what they were looking for.
Near the ventilation access behind the lower-level media room, wedged deep between two utility panels, was a candy wrapper, innocuous, but out of place.
It was a European brand no longer sold in Asia. A chocolate that had once been Leoâs favourite, he used to steal them from Landoâs hands.
Cassius turned it over in his gloved hand, brow furrowing. âThis brand pulled out of the region four years ago.â
âSomeone had to bring it with them,â Alaric said. âSomeone close.â
It was a crumb.
But enough to set everything in motion.
The next clue came fast.
Just beyond the exit to the tunnels, near a shuttered maintenance shed, one of the men found scratch marks in the soil. Kneeling down, he spotted it: a piece of string. Fine, green, nylon.
It matched the safety bracelet Leo had worn as a toddler, issued by the Norrises' private security when they still lived in Monaco.
Alaric stepped forward, examining the path, the layout, the shadows.
He turned to Cassius.
âThey brought him through here.â
âThey watched the race. With him,â Cassius added.
Alaric nodded grimly. âAnd they left us clues. Not because they made a mistake⌠but because they want us to follow.â
ââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââ
Meanwhile, in the quiet of her room at the Young estate, (Y/n) sat at the edge of the chaise beneath the tall windows, the sheer drapes fluttering faintly from the sea breeze drifting in. Her hands were clasped loosely in her lap, a façade of serenity carved carefully onto her face. But inside, a war waged between fear, hope, and something even more dangerous, belief.
Her mother sat nearby in the reading chair, a half-knitted scarf resting on her lap, needles forgotten as she watched her daughter with quiet concern.
Then, the phone buzzed.
Once. Twice. A third time.
The vibrations were sharp, deliberate, like knocks against her ribs.
(Y/n) reached for the device with a hand that didnât tremble, but only just. Her eyes flicked to the screen.
From Alaric: We have a route. He was here. Today. Follow our lead, but do not leave alone.
Her breath caught in her throat, a subtle, sharp intake that barely moved her shoulders. But her mother noticed. She always did.
âWhat is it?â she asked gently, setting the knitting aside.
(Y/n) hesitated for a heartbeat, then forced a soft smile. âJust a message from Alaric.â
Her motherâs brow furrowed, not at the words, but at the weight in her daughterâs voice. She stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on (Y/n)âs shoulder, a steady, maternal warmth that felt like shelter.
âHas something happened?â
(Y/n) shook her head faintly. âNot yet. But⌠soon.â
She didnât say it aloud. She couldnât. Not until they were certain.
But Leo had been there.
In the paddock.
Walking the same ground she had walked.
Breathing the same air.
Watching the same race.
He had been so close.
And now... the chase had truly begun.
ââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââ
That night, long after the sun dipped behind Singaporeâs skyline, a private meeting was held in a penthouse suite above one of the circuitâs sponsor hotels.
Inside: Alaric. Cassius. (Y/n).
The clues were laid out across the table; photo prints, maps, the bracelet string, the candy wrapper, the route scribbles. A pattern began to emerge.
âWhoever it is,â Cassius said, tapping one corner of the map, âthey know how to blend. No cameras picked them up directly, which means theyâre trained or experienced. Possibly military.â
âBut not careful enough to avoid the tracker,â Alaric added. âThat ping was deliberate. They wanted us to see him.â
(Y/n)âs voice was quiet, but sharp. âSo, what do they want?â
Cassius and Alaric exchanged a look.
âEither leverage,â said Cassius. âOr closure.â
âAnd weâre going to find out which,â Alaric finished.
(Y/n) reached for the photo again, Leoâs photo. She traced his outline with a fingertip, every bone in her body aching.
âI want him home,â she whispered.
Alaric nodded. âAnd weâll get him there.â
But even as he said the words, his eyes darkened.
Because whoever had taken Leo hadnât made a mistake.
They had made a move.
To be continued...
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đ Note from the Author: The Young siblings have officially entered their billionaire detective era (YASSS like đľđťââď¸đ GUVSYUBVJNS). Cassius is ready to kick down doors, Alaric is connecting red strings on a conspiracy board somewhere, and Lando... oh well Lando is approximately one clue away from becoming an unpaid private investigator HAHAHAHAHA. Meanwhile, Leo continues to be the most difficult hide-and-seek champion in this entire story.
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Enemies to Lovers: What This Trope Means, Why It Works, and the Best Books
Two people who can't stand each other. Sharp words. Cold shoulders. Maybe a rivalry simmering for years, or an instant clash neither saw coming. And then â slowly, painfully, beautifully â the hostility cracks, and what's underneath isn't hate at all.
A Firework Proposal - Vampire x Reader
You yelped as your partner shot out of the window and flung himself onto the roof of your building.
He landed with annoying grace, leaned over the edge of the roof. âCome up!â Your Vampire Boyfriend whispered.
You rubbed your fingers on your sweaty palms. âHow am I supposed to do what you do? I havenât got the grip, nor the power, to do what you do!â You snapped back.
It also doesnât help that all the buildingâs exterior was a smooth brick that you had no hope of climbing. But you kept that part to yourself.
Your Vampire had said that he had a surprise for you, and the last thing you wanted was to be nasty to him. Especially when he was trying to do something nice for you.
Your Vampire looked over his shoulder, up at the sky. âThen give me your hand.â He held his arm over the edge of the roof, fingers splayed.
Locking your hand over his wrist, you allowed him to pull you up and onto the roof. When you were stable on the rooftop, he tugged you closer, resting a hand on your waist.
He gave you a smug grin as you rolled your eyes. âIf you wanted me to be close to you, you should have just asked.â You smiled.
âYeah, but itâs not as romantic if I just ask, is it? I have to have an excuse for it.â And as if he summoned it, a shot flew into the sky, leaving a stream of orange glittering behind it. âAnd what perfect excuse than to watch the fireworks with you?â
The shot exploded into the shape of a star, before evaporating in a shower of green sparks and vanishing into the dark night sky.
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Fantasy Romance Writer
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Hounds of Hell MC 4: Ryder ~ Available today!
Iâm not the settling type, but sheâs in my heart. Iâll protect her from the Mafia or die tryingâŚ
Margot -- I've loved Ryder since we were kids, but he's never been the type to stick with anyone for long. Being a deputy sheriff means I see the world differently--by the law. Heâs the opposite. The Mafia took my father from me. When they return to threaten everything I care about, including Ryder, I realize the line between right and wrong isnât so clear. If weâre going to survive this, Iâll need Ryderâs strength. Maybe this time, weâll face danger together.
Ryder -- Margotâs been right in front of me for years, but Iâm the guy who never sticks around. Commitment? Not for me. Now sheâs all I see. When the Mafia comes after the Hounds, everything is at stake. Margotâs not just a deputy sheriff -- sheâs the woman Iâve always needed. The woman I love. Iâll die before I let anything happen to her.
Buy it @ Changeling Press
You'll also find pre-order links for Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords & Vivlio where it will be available on 10/31!
Enter my October Giveaway! (If you select 'fanfics' you'll get a newsletter with all my published titles but you'll also get updates on my fanfics and you'll get the chapters before they post here or anywhere else. Also, planning to do some extras like deleted scenes, extra scenes, and more!)
Accidental Getaway by Molly Gray
Sponsored Content: Sometimes the best comeback⌠starts with an accidental getaway.
Fired, dumped, and back in her childhood bedroom, Jenni Swansonâs life has officially gone off-plan. Her marketing mojo is missing. Her confidence is shot. And her career needs a miracleâor at least a miracle client.
So, when Jenniâs new boss hands her a high-stakes pitch for luxury client OmorfiĂĄ Hotel, she says yesâŚeven if sheâs nowhere near ready. The catch? The meeting is face-to-face. In Greece.
To land the deal, Jenni must win over the hotelâs unreasonably attractive general manager, whoâs determined to show her the real Mykonosâsecret beaches, local tavernas, and all. Steady-eyed and quietly visionary, Niko sees strengths in Jenni sheâs long stopped seeing in herself.
But between a deepening crush she canât shake, panoramic sunsets, and a pitch that feels as stale as yesterdayâs spanakopita, Jenniâs past looms back into view. The question is: will it overshadow her dreams...again?
Accidental Getaway by Molly Gray - Available on Amazon
https://amzn.to/4f5zm3Z
đ On a trip to Rio, a tourist gets a little less conversation and a little more action in a heated romance that takes him across the city... Get your copy of Daisy Fairchild's Of Masks & Men: An M/M Strangers to Lovers Romance Story now.
